The Psychology of Love
by cor335
Summary: Overweight and depressed, Bella Swan has decided to do something about it. When she decides to begin therapy, she never expects her Psychologist to be so attractive, nor does she know that he's all she needs to make her happy. Rated M for language/lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this is my first twilight fanfic.. so be nice! I've got a couple of chapters written out so far but I haven't decided exactly where I want to go with this just yet. I would appreciate any feedback or ideas. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns these characters; I'm just taking their sorry asses to therapy.**

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**Chapter 1**

"You shouldn't eat that Isabella."

My mother's words played on repeat.

I'd become accustomed to this. My mother considered herself to be a person of wise advice. Unfortunately for her, and especially for me, this wisdom only branched out into two subjects; God, and dieting. Not exactly prime child-raising material, but alas, here I am, Isabella Swan, a product of my mother's creation. It's not something I'm proud of.

"Mom, not now," I answered her finally. I didn't want to, honestly. What I really wanted, and I mean really wanted, was to trudge myself up the stairs, lock my door, and bury myself under my covers until the darkness lulled me to sleep. Apparently it was not meant to be. Apparently, it was in fate's design to have me standing in my kitchen after a stressful and not so satisfying doctor's visit, trying to eat a godforsaken sandwich, despite my mother's warnings against it. Fate and I have never really got along.

"It's fattening Bells," She said, ignoring my words. "I don't care if you don't want to hear it. I'm telling you because I'm your mother and I love you."

I sighed, tossing the sandwich onto the plate in disgust. At some point during her speech it had lost its flavor, turning into an unsatisfying mixture of mush and goo. She always pulled the same routine, insults first, guilt trip later.

She had a gift.

I decided not to tell her about my trip to the doctor. If I told her why I'd gone she'd just blame it on my weight, and I didn't want to hear it, because it was partly true. My depression had started to veer out of control as of late, and I really didn't have the time to deal with it. Being a full time student, while still holding my managerial position at my job was no easy feat, and the signs were starting to show. Not in my weight of course, I'd been that way all of my life, you know the types I mean. I don't think I'd ever been thin. For some reason though, the stresses of life were starting to catch up with me, and I was beginning to buckle under all of the weight.

Pun intended, Ha ha.

Today's conversation was no different than any other, so instead of sticking around and watching it turn ugly as it usually did, I turned my back on her and headed for my room.

"Bella you didn't finish your food," she called after me.

I scoffed my way up the stairs, neglecting to reply to her words. The woman was an enigma I'd be forever trying to figure out. I pushed my door open slowly, not wanting to see the sight waiting for me inside. My room used to be beautiful, to me anyways, my mother fucking loathed it, but that was part of its charm. I was a sucker for all things old, furniture included, so every piece in my room was found and paid for at little antique stores across the state. My mother offered to pay for it herself, despite my offensive taste in decorating, but I'd declined, knowing it was just one more thing she could try to use against me.

It wasn't beautiful anymore, not even to my standards. It was a fucking mess; a biohazard of a room. Clothes that once hung on hangers were strewn about the room, to the point where I couldn't figure out what was clean or dirty, and whether or not I had rug or hard floors. I neglected dusting, made obvious by the thick layer now coating the bookcases Jake had made for me. More than anything, I felt guilty about that. He'd kill me if he saw them. They took me 500 dollars and him an entire summer to build. Luckily for me, I didn't talk to Jake much anymore. I'd been too depressed as of late to care about having friends, much less a relationship.

I somehow waded my way through the clothes to my bed, pushing off any offending articles that lay there. Burrowing under the covers, I tried to forget the embarrassment of telling the doctor I hated being alive. I remembered the look of pity that crossed his face as he said quietly "As your doctor, it's my job to tell you that losing weight would help greatly with this problem." I'd looked at him scornfully then, hating his perfected teeth and perfect hair, hating the beautiful wife he no doubt had waiting for him at home. I'd answered him angrily, not regretting my words until now, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were also a psychologist. Really Dr. Cullen, I had no idea you were so accomplished." He looked almost ashamed at that moment and said simply, "I'm not." My heartbeat accelerated, and even though I knew I would sound like a complete bitch, I didn't seem to care, "Oh really? You're not? Then how about you stop giving me bullshit advice when you know nothing on the subject, and refer me to someone that does."

I really was a total bitch, and it was hard to hide when I was feeling attacked. I felt ashamed now for how I acted, knowing that Dr. Cullen was just trying to help. He really was a nice guy, had been for the past year as my family physician. He'd smiled at me sadly, and I hated myself for saying anything cruel. As I saw my way out, I heard someone calling me from behind. I turned in time to see him following me out with a tiny white card in his hand.

"Listen Dr. Cullen, I just want to apologize for-" he cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't Bella, really. You were right. I'm not a psychologist, and I shouldn't be handing out uneducated advice. But he is," he said, handing me the card. I looked down to see the words _Dr._ _Edward Cullen Clinical Psychologist. _I tried not to roll my eyes and scoff. Figures. I decided not to say anything about the fact that he was pimping out a family member to me, and just smiled.

"He's my son," he added, answering the question I hadn't said out loud. "He's the best at what he does, and I'm not just saying that because I'm his father."

I couldn't help but smile at him. He really wasn't a bad guy, and I'd just snapped his head off like a dick.

"I appreciate it," I whispered. "I'll give him a try, despite the fact that there's a bit of nepotism going on here," I teased, giving him a pointed look. He laughed softly and backed up a step, turning to leave.

"Have a good day Bella," and then, "I hope you feel better." The look he gave me was so sincere I wanted to cry.

Like I said, I was a dick.

Which is why I was currently burrowed under my covers, alone, in the dark, and without a damn soul to call for comfort. I pulled the card out of my pocket and fumbled with it in the darkness. I brought out my phone and stared at it in the unnatural blue light. I was nervous to call, feeling that if I set up an appointment I'd be solidifying the fact that I was crazy. I thought about what my life had come to. Just a bunch of lonely nights hiding in my mess of a room, wallowing in self-pity, and wishing someone would care.

I was done with it. I punched in the number and listened to it ring.

The voice that answered surprised me.

"Edward Cullen." It was deep, smooth, and sounded nothing like a secretary.

"Um hi," I answered, hitting myself in the head the moment the words left my lips.

"Hello." I could sense his smile through the phone. I didn't like it.

"Um, my names Isabella Swan, Dr. Cullen referred me," I paused, feeling stupid. "Weird. You both have the same name. I meant-"

"My father," he finished with a chuckle. He was apparently enjoying my distress. Some psychologist he turned out to be. "Please tell me you're not another blind date. The last time he tried that I came home with a bruised ego and a pair of scorched pants."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it.

"No. Definitely not. He referred me as a patient," I was met with silence.

"Oh my God," he whispered, and now it was my turn to enjoy his embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Usually he patches them through to my office. I just assumed."

"Don't worry about it," I interrupted. I didn't want to make this anymore awkward than it was. "He must have given me the wrong card or something, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I'll just have to scold him later."

"For the wrong number or the blind date?" I asked. He let out a booming laugh, and it warmed me all over.

"Both I guess," he replied.

After that he gave me his office number, saying that I could make an appointment with his secretary Tanya, and that he was looking forward to meeting me face to face. I blushed at his words, thankful he couldn't see it, knowing he only meant it in a professional way. Despite that fact though, I still found myself replaying our conversation over in my head, hoping beyond hope that he wasn't nearly as attractive as he sounded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns these characters; I'm just taking their sorry asses to therapy.**

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**Chapter 2**

Mornings were always hard for me. The moment I opened my eyes I would be bombarded with negative thoughts. Nothing had changed. My depression was still lurking around every corner.

I was still the same person, much to my disappointment.

It was Tuesday, which meant today would be worse than usual, all thanks to that dreaded requirement, Biology. I would, in all honesty, rather die than go to that class. Maybe I'm just saying that because I'm a depressed, suicidal maniac, but I would. I just didn't have the guts to follow through. I was an English major for Christ sake. I did not need to know the parts of a cell.

I regretfully pulled myself from bed, stumbling over clothes on my way to the bathroom. Showering quickly, I neglected makeup and nice clothes for the comfort of old jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. I no longer cared. I was, in every definition of the words, a college student. As I was entering the kitchen to grab a granola bar and some juice, I noticed my dad at the kitchen table.

"Morning Charlie," I garbled, my voice still rough from lack of use.

"Morning Bells," he spoke into his coffee. These mornings were a constant in my life. Charlie would always be here until exactly 8:45, when he left for work, drinking his coffee and eating his bran flakes. On adventurous days he'd add some raisins or a banana. From the look of the bare cereal in his bowl, today was not one of those days.

"How'd the doctor thing go?"

"Good, and bad I guess." I decided I was going to leave it at that, but at the height his eyebrow was raised, I knew he wanted details. "He referred me to a psychologist," I paused, not wanting to say the next part. "But only after I insulted him, and belittled his profession." I heard, more than saw Charlie choke on his cereal. I didn't much feel like meeting his gaze.

"You _what_?" He ground out.

"Don't worry about it. I apologized. It was awkward, and I feel like shit."

"Well you should," he said matter of fact. I let out a sigh, hoping this was the end of the conversation. Charlie had always understood about my little situation. We both shared a common enemy, my mother, and that factor brought us both together. He was there for me as much as he could be, and I appreciated it.

"Where's Renee?" At the sound of the footsteps behind me, I realized I didn't have to ask.

"Do you have a problem with just calling me Mom?" She muttered.

"I prefer to call you by your given names. It makes you seem more like people," I bit back.

"Did you hear that Charlie?" She was answered with a coffee muffled "Hmm?" She gave him a pointed look before sliding her glance my way. She looked me over, and I tried not to cringe at the look on her face, it was disgust, plain and simple. I hated that fucking look.

"Bella _what _are you wearing?" She said it like my outfit offended her personally.

"Clothes, last time I checked."

She scoffed. "If you can call them that. Bella how do you expect Jake to-"

"Renee," Charlie warned.

Bless his heart, he tried, but the damage was done. I knew what she was going to say, seeing as I'd been asking myself the same thing almost every day. How could I expect Jake to ever take me back if kept this up? I was fat, plain, and I needed some new fucking clothes, but I hated shopping for them because it just made my depression worse. Funny how that worked; I needed clothes for confidence, but I lost confidence buying clothes. Fucking catch 22's; they could just kiss my fat ass.

"Well I'm off to school," I mumbled, nodding to Charlie while he gave me a pained expression. I couldn't tell if it was in apology of my mother's words, or because I'd be leaving him alone with her; poor guy. I tried to tell him with a look that I felt his misery.

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Biology was worse than usual, and that's saying something. My professor decided today we'd fit lecture and a lab into one sitting, so if I didn't want to stab my eyes out with my pen while she droned on about who the fuck cares, I wanted to lay my head on a hot plate so the pain could drown out my partners words. I didn't have much against Mike, but he was dumb, plain and simple, and I didn't really like hearing him speak. I was having another hot plate fantasy when his words broke through my reverie.

"Bella? Did you hear me?" He asked. I shook my head roughly, bringing myself back to the present.

"I'm sorry Mike. What did you say?" I watched him blush, and wondered what I did wrong.

"I said," He paused to take a deep breath, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out some time, maybe to a movie or something. I know how you like movies."

He said that last part like it was a big secret, and I had to stop myself from saying 'who the fuck _doesn't_ like movies?' in reply. That would have made me seem like a heartless bitch, and while that may be true, that didn't mean I wanted everyone to know that just yet. I tried to remain calm.

"Like a date?" I asked cautiously. I really hoped he said no.

"Yea, like a date," he answered shyly. He was picking at a loose strand on his shirt, and I decided I had to let him down easily.

"I'm sorry Mike," I started slowly, thinking of a good excuse. "I just got out of a bad relationship, and I'm not really looking to date anyone right now." I saw his hopeful expression fall, and i immediately called myself a few names in my head. It was partly true what I said, but in all honestly I just didn't see Mike that way. I'd always been a bit picky when it came to men, and I wasn't really sure why. In all actuality I didn't have the right to be. I was fat, plain, and extremely depressed, and I still had the audacity to turn down an invitation from a decent looking man who wasn't a total asshole. Seriously, who did I think I was?

I really,_ really_ didn't know.

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Sleep wouldn't come easy that night. I had too much on my mind. Maybe it was the appointment I had scheduled tomorrow morning, or the strange events of the day. Either way, sleep eluded me. I heard a rustling noise outside my door, and knew someone was up. I sincerely hoped it was Charlie, knowing he wouldn't disturb me at this time of night, but at the sound of my doorknob turning, I knew that wasn't the case.

"Bella?" My mom poked her head in, and I saw her blurred form in the darkness.

"I'm trying to sleep," I bit out, annoyed that she never knocked. Twenty one years old and still I received no privacy.

"Well you shouldn't be, this rooms a pig sty. You need to clean it." I smiled under the covers. Knowing the mess bothered her was yet another reason not to clean it. I looked to my clock and rolled my eyes heavenward.

"Ma, its 2 o'clock in the morning. I think it can probably wait until the afternoon." I heard her heave a sigh from my doorway.

"I just don't understand you Bella. What's going on with you? First you let Jake get away and now you refuse to take care of yourself or your belongings?"

I tried to remain silent. The last think I wanted to do was have this conversation with my mother, especially not in the middle of the night.

"You're not going to say anything?" She asked. "Fine. Don't. But you'll hear what I have to say. Jake was such a great catch Bella. He was so very handsome, and you can't expect boys like that to come your way every day."

I felt my heart drop a little at her words, and behind the sadness, an angry demon reared its head.

"Boys like what?" I bit out, wanting her to elaborate, just so I could confirm she was as horrible as I thought.

"Oh you know," she huffed, starting to realize she may have said something wrong. "He was just so…" she didn't finish. I didn't need her to.

"Out of my league?" I asked. She sighed from the doorway. My mom always knew how to work the crowds. She'd say something nasty and then act as if she did nothing wrong.

"I'm just saying that if you lost a bit of weight, he might be persuaded to take you back. Boys are shallow honey. It's sad, but true."

"Goodnight mom," I muttered, trying hard to control my anger. She sighed, and I worried she had more to say, but she closed my door with a decisive click.

Leave it to my mother to jump to that conclusion. She thought Jake left me for my appearance, and while I felt that was partly true, he'd insisted that it was not. Damaged goods, he called me. He fixed enough things at work, he said, he didn't want to do it outside of work too. Fucking mechanics, and their stupid fucking metaphors.

Sleep eluded me once more.

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I awoke to the sound of my parents fighting, and I started to wonder why I didn't just move into a dorm. Besides the fact that it was a few extra grand I didn't have to spend. If it wasn't for my scholarship I wouldn't be going to school anyways. And if it wasn't for this damn depression, my scholarship wouldn't be on the rocks. If my GPA dropped below a 3.5 I was done for, and I was treading perilously close to the edge. I needed to get this taken care of, and taken care of quick.

School went by fast, due to the fact that I was dreading the appointment that followed. I assumed that I usually would have found my World Civilization class interesting under any other circumstances. I'd always loved history, and yet these days I can't even bring myself to read a damn book, much less pay attention to a lecture about the French Revolution. The things I used to love were slowly but surely seeping down the drain.

As I drove to my appointment, I pondered my morning thus far. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I actually tried to look nice this morning, which is no easy feat when you haven't gone shopping in a year. Somehow I managed to find a passable blue V neck sweater and a pair of jeans that actually fit my form.

When I showed up to the building my heart began to race, and my movements slowed. I didn't know why I was so nervous, only that the last place I wanted to be was in that office, with the man from the phone, talking about how much my life sucked. I tugged at the hemline of my sweater, suddenly regretting the decision of wearing something I wasn't completely comfortable in. I probably looked like an idiot. I walked into the building and followed the signs.

When I opened the office door, I was surprised by the sight of the woman before me. Even sitting behind the desk I could see that she was tall; tall, blonde, and beautiful. I hated her already. Her eyes met mine as I walked towards her desk, and she offered me a look of elegant disdain.

"Yes?" She inquired, as if I didn't belong here.

"My name's Isabella Swan, I'm here for my 11:00 appointment with Dr. Cullen." She arched her perfectly shaped brow and nodded to the chairs, indicating me to sit down.

"I'll let him know you've arrived."

Honestly, from anyone else, those words would have been harmless, but from her, they practically reeked of irritation and disdain. I watched as she picked up the receiver to tell him the news. Her demeanor changed abruptly, turning from fiery hellcat to innocent flirt in a matter of seconds. It was actually quite impressive. As she giggled into the receiver I found myself saying a silent prayer for strength.

"You can go in," she bit out. I smiled slightly and welcomed the return of the hellcat; its presence was much more comforting, and much less nauseating. I began to wonder if maybe they were sleeping together. As I reached the door to the inner office, I took a deep breath, settling my nerves. I told myself to stop being such a little girl about it, and without hesitation, swung open the door.

I was met with the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

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**Well I hope you're enjoying it thus far. I've been having some complications with my computer as of late, and by that I mean I want to take it into the middle of a field and go office space on it with my Louisville Slugger. Seriously.**

**I'll try to have chapter 3 out to you guys as soon as possible. Unfortunately for me, my computer decided it didn't want to save the 1,500 words I had already written. So I had to start from scratch. I would love some reviews to get through the annoyance of having to write the same thing all over again! **

**Despite the hiccup, I should have the next chapter to you by Friday at the latest. Leave me some love!  
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	3. Chapter 3

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**Alright guys, here's chapter 3. I know I said I'd have it to you by Friday, but considering it's only around 1:00 a.m. on Saturday, I figure its close enough. I'll try to have the next chapter to you as soon as I can. I have a big exam coming up on Monday though, (Biology.. uggh) so it probably won't be out to you until Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. Hope you guys enjoy!**

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**Chapter 3  
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This was bad. In fact, this was fucking horrible.

It was just my luck that my therapist also just happened to be the hottest man on the fucking planet. Figures. No wonder hellcat turned into a ball of mush. Who wouldn't? Attached to those damnable green eyes was a smile that was currently turning my legs to goo, and a mop of auburn hair that was just begging me to run my hands through it. I clasped them tightly behind my back, just in case.

"You must be Isabella," He said, standing up from behind his desk. I felt his voice flow through me like water, and I realized I was in some deep shit. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he reached out his hand to me. Thankfully, my brain was working on autopilot, and sent the necessary messages to my hand. I clasped it firmly, and felt an electric shock tingle its way up my arm. I was cursing him silently, wishing he'd just leave the damn room so I could catch my breath and get a hold of myself. Then I realized it was _his_ office, and that I would just have to suck it up and deal with it. So I did.

"Please, have a seat." He motioned towards a chair in front of his desk, and I made my way over. Once seated, I started picking at the hemline of my shirt, wondering how I ever thought this ratty old sweater was worthy of his presence. _You didn't know your therapist was also a fucking God Bella. _I nodded absently, agreeing with my inner voice while Dr. Cullen gave me a look I didn't want to understand.

"If you don't mind Isabella, I'm going to start off with a few preliminary questionnaires. Some of the questions might seem personal or even a bit ridiculous, but I promise you they have a point." He was ruffling through stacks of papers, obviously a bit unorganized. Behind his smile, he seemed a bit frazzled.

"Okay, sure," I mumbled. He handed me a few sheets of paper, and I looked down to read their contents. I paled. There was no way in hell I was telling this God/man about the changes in my sexual appetite, or the rate of my reoccurring suicidal thoughts.

"And I suppose you want me to answer these truthfully?" It was a stupid question, I know, but I didn't really see how I could. He looked up at me from behind his desk and smiled. I felt myself melt further into the chair.

"I know some of them might be a bit embarrassing, but your honesty is not just for my benefit, but your own. The more honest you are, the more accurate your results will be, and the better prepared I'll be in treating you."

Simple as that I guess. I nodded silently and breezed through the questions, knowing the longer I lingered on them, the more likely it was that I'd lie. When I was done, I handed them over.

"That was quick," he said with a raised brow. I shrugged. "Alright, just give me a minute to look these over and then we'll begin. Would you like something to drink? Water? Juice?"

I shook my head quickly. I almost told him I could use something a bit stronger, but I figured that wasn't the best way to make a good first impression. _That's right Doc, it's not even noon and I'm ready for a drink. _I tried not to let my mind wander while he read, but it was of no use. What would he think of my answers? Would he look at me in pity afterwards? God, I fucking hoped not. What would he think when he read I haven't had sex in months, much less wanted to? His eyes shot up to mine then, and a blush fought its way up to my cheeks. Great, now he probably thinks I was thinking something dirty. Not that I wasn't on my way. I was just thinking about how good he must look with his shirt - _God damn it_. My blush deepened. Now he definitely knew. He was looking at me intently, and I couldn't decipher what it meant, so I just averted my eyes to floor and pretended like nothing happened. I heard him clear his throat.

This was _not_ going well.

"Alright Isabella, I'd like to start asking you a few questions, just get to know you a bit." I nodded silently in answer.

"Are you in school?"

"Yes." I heard him writing.

"And what are you studying?"

"English." More writing.

"And what about English do you like?" I know he was trying for more than a one word answer.

"Everything," I answered. He let out a small laugh.

"Isabella," he warned. He gave me a look that shot straight down to my core. "Are you being deliberately obscure?"

I shook my head quickly and smiled.

"No." He rolled his eyes heavenward with a laugh. I don't know why, but I sincerely enjoyed making this difficult for him, seeing as his mere presence made it difficult for me. If I'd been five years old I would have stuck my tongue out at him. Who was I kidding? I'd do it now if I had the guts. At the sight of his exasperation I decided I'd go easy on him.

"I love everything about English," I said, and he smiled at my admission. "I loved writing and reading especially. Or at least, I used to." I lowered my eyes to my clasped hands; they were currently wringing the life out of one another.

"Used to?" He asked. I figured he would. It was his job to be nosey.

"I've kind of lost interest lately. In everything really." I looked up to see him scribbling in his little book. When he was done writing, he looked up at me, all traces of his smile gone.

"Isabella, I'd like to ask you a simple question, and I'd appreciate it if you could be honest." I bowed my head in agreement.

"Why are you here?" he asked. It really was simple, and not at all what I was expecting. I figured what the hell, and answered.

"I'm miserable."

He raised his eyes to meet mine, and gave me a soft, compassionate smile.

"Thank you Isabella. Now I'm going to be honest with you in return." I felt myself tense at his words. "From reading your questionnaires, and from some of your omissions so far in this session, I would say you seem to have a pretty clear cut case of Major Depressive Disorder. Now I know that may be frightening to hear, but I'm going to tell you now that I won't diagnose you just yet. You should also know that this disorder is extremely common, and fairly easy to treat. There's really no reason you should feel any apprehension, just know that you're in good hands."

I let out a sigh at his words, and answered, "I figured."

"Oh?" he said with a smile. I nodded halfheartedly.

"I've taken a few psych courses during college, and I recognized the symptoms pretty quick." I took a deep breath, averting my gaze before I continued, "What I'm here for is something to take the edge off. I know as a psychologist you can't actually prescribe medication, but if you could refer me to someone that could, I would be extremely grateful." I looked up at him then to see his faced graced with a mask of disappointment. I tried to hide my cringe.

"Bella," he said, all trace of humor gone. "I'm not here to drown you in medications, even if that is what you want. I could have easily gone to Med School, but I didn't. Do you know why?"

I looked down at my feet like a reprimanded child. "No?"

"Because I believe that the majority of disorders out there can be treated without medication. So many people in your generation are looking for that quick fix, a magic pill to take away all of their troubles. Well I'm telling you now, you won't find that here."

While he made a few good points, I still found myself getting angry at his words.

"My generation?" I bit back. "You realize that you can't be more than a couple of years older than me, and are therefore included in the aforementioned generation?"

He looked surprised for a moment, and then gave an apologetic smile.

"You're right," he said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have placed you into that category. I'm sure you're not just here for a "quick fix"."

His statement made me arch a brow. He apparently didn't know me well.

"On the contrary Dr. Cullen, that's exactly what I'm here for. My grades are plummeting, and I'm about to lose my scholarship the moment my GPA hits anything below a 3.5. I've worked my ass off for that scholarship, so as you can see, I am indeed on a bit of a time-limit."

By the expression on his face I could tell he was thinking hard about something. I couldn't help but notice how sexy he looked when he bit his lip in concentration. It made me want to launch across his desk and-

"Bella," his words interrupted my thoughts, and I damned him silently. "You have to understand. While medication might help a bit, it's extremely time-limited, and is only masking the underlying problems. Now digging deep, and finding ways to solve those problems without medication, that's what I'm here for."

"Well that all sounds great Doc, but you seem to be forgetting about the fact that my GPA is dropping perilously close to that 3.5. If I lose that scholarship, and I'm not being dramatic when I say this," I said with my hands in the air, "I'm completely fucked."

I knew I probably shouldn't have sworn, but if he was planning on getting to know every intimate detail of my life, he should probably know I had a bit of a potty mouth. He was silent for a moment, before bringing his hands up to rest under his chin.

"I'll make you a deal Bella. I'll refer you to someone you can talk to about starting up a medication regime, but you will continue your sessions with me, and we will proceed in trying to treat this disorder at its core. Sound good?"

I smiled and let out a breath of relief.

"Sounds great."

I got my fix, _and_ I got to keep my hot ass psychologist. It was a win-win. Who was I to refuse?

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**EPOV**

I was in a heap of trouble. I knew that much from the moment she walked in the door. She wasn't at all what I was expecting. Over the phone, she sounded cute, and I'm not going to lie, I may have fantasized about what she looked like naked a bit, but this, I didn't expect.

She was fucking hot.

She had long, beautiful hair and soft, pouty lips, and a body that made me want to drool all over my desk. Curvy women were my weakness, and good god was she curvy in all the right places. Not to mention she was a complete and utter enigma. At one moment she was saying things like "aforementioned generation", and the next she was spewing curse words like a seasoned sailor. She was smart, funny, and so cute I did nothing the entire session but think about kissing her senseless. When she got up to leave, my eyes were glued to her ass the entire way out, and I began thinking of less innocent things I could do to her, things that included bending her over my desk. Even thinking about it now, driving home, made me want to pull over my car just so I could catch my breath.

Like I said, I was in a heap of trouble.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and got it out to answer.

"Edward Cullen," I said tiredly.

"Yo Bro. You still coming tonight?" Damn it. It was Emmett. It's not that I didn't love my brother or anything; I just wasn't in the mood for idle conversation.

"Probably not Em. I'm really tired." I braced myself.

"Aww man," he whined. "Quit being such a fucking girl and come out and drink with me. God knows you need to fucking relax every once in a while."

While that part about relaxation was true, I wasn't sure if I'd find it with him.

"Emmett, the last time I went out drinking with you, I woke up on a sidewalk with my shoes missing, and couldn't remember a fucking thing. That doesn't really sound like the peak of relaxation." I heard him laughing on the other end.

"You know what they say, when you can't remember a thing about the night before?

In all honesty I didn't want to know, and yet I still found myself saying, "What?"

"It means you had a good fucking time," he screamed. "Now go take some Midol, and get your sorry ass out here to the bar." He hung up, not giving me another chance to argue.

I guess that meant I was drinking tonight. I looked down at my shoes in one last goodbye, and started driving for the bar.

When I walked inside, I struggled through the crowd, looking for the hulking figure that was my brother.

"Yo, tampon! Over here!" I found myself growling at the sound of his voice. I really needed to talk to him about his fascination with all things menstrual. As I made my way over, people stared me down the entire way. And he wondered why I didn't want to go out with him. The guy was a juvenile douche.

"Christ Emmett," I said when I reached him. "Do you actually find it necessary to be such a complete and utter ass _every_ time I see you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." He said with a smile. "Besides, I haven't seen you in forever."

"So what, you're making up for lost time?" I scoffed. He gave me a stupid smirk.

"Something like that."

I let out a sigh and realized there was no point fighting him. "Well since you dragged my ass out here, you can buy the first round of drinks." He shrugged noncommittally, and made his way over to the bar. I watched as he flirted with a blonde while he waited for the bartender to fill our pitcher. I don't know how he did it, but the next moment she was giggling like a school girl and passing him her phone number. I swear to God, the man was an overgrown six grader, and somehow he still got chicks. As a psychologist I would say it's his hidden charm and charisma, as his brother I would say he's just a lucky son of a bitch. As he made his way back to our table, he walked with a confident swagger.

"Alright, calm your shit Casanova. What the hell was that?" I demanded. He blushed. My brother, the king of unfeeling bastards actually blushed. He tried to shrug it off, but I knew better.

"Spill," I said forcefully. He gave me a pained look, and then huffed.

"Fine," he said glaring. "That's Rosalie. I met her earlier today. She's my new mechanic." I spit up the beer I swallowed.

"Hold the fucking phone," I said. "_She's_ your mechanic?" He gave me a look of mock surprise.

"Edward, as a psychologist, I would think you of all people wouldn't be surprised by this."

"Shut up Emmett, you know what I mean. She just looks very…" I paused, looking for the right word.

"What?" He interrupted.

"Clean," I finished. I winced as he punched me in the arm.

"Screw you man. Don't be a dick just because I'm crushing on my mechanic. When's the last time you were attracted to somebody?"

I immediately thought of Isabella, and found myself blushing before I could stop it. Emmett's face held a look of awed surprise.

"Oh shit. Who is she?" He said, trying not to laugh at his good fortune. I glared.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why the hell not?" he shouted.

"It's complicated," I muttered.

"Edward, it's a girl, not a patient. How the hell can it be complicated?"

My face drained of all color at his words, and I found myself staring into the depths of my beer. When he realized what my silence meant, he let out a strangled laugh.

"Shit Eddy," he sighed. "You're screwed."

I let out a humorless laugh before drinking my beer in one gulp.

"My thoughts exactly," I said finally. I was well and truly screwed.

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**Did you guys like the EPOV? Leave me some love and let me know.  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.**

**A/N: Alright guys, I am soooo sorry about the wait. School has been cracking down on me as of late, so I will try to update as quickly as possible, but please bear with me. This chapter is more or less a lead in for the next two, and I'll tell you what, I'm excited about the next two. **

**p.s. Thank you for all the amazing reviews. You guys are awesome. **

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**Chapter 4**

It was 15 minutes past 11 when I pulled into the parking lot outside of Dr. Cullen's office. Yanking my keys from the ignition, I jumped from my car and ran the rest of the way to his office door. Tanya was waiting for me, surly as usual, waving me inside with her perfectly manicured fingernails. How I hated her.

When I walked in the door I was slightly out of breath. He was waiting for me behind his desk, his face hidden behind his interlaced hands.

"You're late Isabella." His voice sent a shock through my spine. It held a warning.

"I know Dr. Cullen. It won't happen again," I answered meekly. He raised his face to mine finally, arching a brow.

"Oh I know it won't," his voice was almost a whisper as he stood and slowly started stalking towards me. "I'm going to make sure of it." His look smoldered, and I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn't realize I'd been backing away before I felt myself pressed against the door. Raising his arms to rest on the wall at either side of me, I found myself trapped under his gaze.

"You've been a bad girl Isabella," He whispered into my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my skin, and I shivered. "Do you know what happens to bad girls in my office?" He ran his tongue along the inner shell of my ear, and I let out an involuntary moan.

"No?" I squeaked. I felt him push me against the door with his hips, grinding his erection into the apex of my thighs.

"They get spanked," he growled, biting down on my ear.

I woke up slowly, not wanting to leave the dream for my cold, empty bed. This had been happening a lot lately, and by that I meant every night. With my next session looming before me, I was beginning to wonder if I'd be able to face him after all of these dreams. Apparently I had a thing for domination I didn't know was there before. Or maybe it was just that anything Edward Cullen did to me, I'd find incredibly hot. It was probably a bit of both. I dragged myself out of bed, dreading the classes ahead, but looking forward to seeing Rosalie afterward. When I'd called her yesterday to say I needed clothes, she was overjoyed, saying it was about time I admitted it. In all honesty, I think she was more excited than I.

It really was a beautiful day. It showed the signs that spring was here, with a soft cool breeze to soften the sun's rays. Everyone's mood seemed to be lightened when I went to class. Everyone's but mine. Leave it to me to take a day like this and ruin it with my mood.

At one point during Biology, I noticed Mike preparing to speak to me, and I hastily cut him off with a glare. I didn't want to be bothered today, and despite the nice weather, I felt it was probably just a buffer for worse things to come. It seemed the professor was also in an uncommonly nice mood, dismissing us from class two hours before the norm. I'm not going to lie, while the weather may not have made a dent in my mood, this certainly did. Actually, on my way to the mall, I think I may have even cracked a smile.

I arrived with a good hour to spare before Rosalie said she would meet me, and decided to kill time in the Borders attached to the mall. I was contemplating buying a new copy of Jane Eyre to replace the disgrace I called a book at home when I saw him. Jake. He was standing in the comic book section, looking overtly large among the bookcases. I was almost to safety, hidden behind the nearest row when I heard his voice, sending my heart to flop uselessly at my feet.

"Bella? Is that you?" I tried to ignore the surprise in his voice as I faced him, feigning a look that matched his own.

"Jake," I whispered, making my way to him slowly. I nodded to the comic he held in his hand. "Still reading crap I see," I joked. He raised a brow at the book in my hand.

"I think that's strictly based upon opinion Bella. Some of us actually like to be entertained," he said sardonically.

"Ha. Ha." I tried to keep my countenance composed as I realized how much I'd missed this. It was always so easy with Jake. He was one of my best friends, and I'd lost that when he'd left me. I heard him clear his throat, and realized I must have visibly zoned out for a moment.

"Well I never thought I'd see you here," he spoke quickly, looking around nervously. I tried to ignore it.

"See me where, a book store? Jake, you obviously don't know me well." I laughed quietly, and he smiled.

"No, I meant the mall smartass. Shopping was never really your thing, much less around large crowds of people."

"True," I nodded. "Rose is meeting me soon. I've finally admitted to myself that my wardrobe is in serious need of refurbishing. "He let out a booming laugh.

"Oh you've just realized? Does that mean I get my clothes back now?" My smile dropped as his words caused a painful twist in my chest. I knew he hadn't meant it that way, but his words just felt so final. I heard him clear his throat again, and I looked up to see him giving me a pained look.

"Sorry Bella, I didn't mean it like-"

"Jakey, there you are!" My eyes followed my ears on this one, leading me to a stunning brunette that was currently running her way over to Jake. I practically felt him wince from beside me.

"Sorry Brittany," he whispered. Of course her name was Brittney, what else would it be?

"Bella this is Brittney, Brittney, Bella," he said, motioning between us. The glint in her eyes changed as she looked me over, and I had the distinct impression that she knew who I was. She stuck out her hand to shake, her nails transforming into talons.

"It's so nice to meet you," she bit out, obviously meaning the opposite.

"Likewise," I smiled back, hoping she knew I meant the same.

It would have been so much easier if she'd just been blond, but now I couldn't even hate her for that. Instead, I had to face the fact that I hated her because she was obviously here with Jake, and also because she was fucking gorgeous. Bitch.

I watched as she slowly curled her talons around his waist, turning her sickening smile toward his face.

"Can we go Jake? You promised you'd take me shopping," she pouted. I had the distinct feeling that I was going to hurl. I gave him a knowing look, remembering that Jake hated shopping almost as much as I. I was about to say my goodbyes when I noticed his face pale at the sight of something behind me.

"A book store, why am I not surprised?" I heard her say. She sauntered up slowly, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulders. "Jake," she said, her blue eyes narrowing. "I didn't know you could read."

"Rosalie," I chastised, not really feeling bad. She always knew how to make an entrance.

"It's nice to see you to Rose," his smile hinted otherwise. "Still a peach I see."

If this wasn't so awkward for me, and if I wasn't so damned upset, I probably would have laughed at the situation. Unfortunately though, I was upset, and it was damned awkward.

"Well as much as I loved catching up, I'm going to go." I said frantically, refusing to spare another glance in his direction. A few moments later, Rosalie caught up to me, a strange look clouding her otherwise beautiful face.

"You okay?" She asked cautiously.

"Fine," I said quickly, and for now, I was. There would be time later to be upset, but here, in public, shopping for clothes; now was not the time.

"Well you should be," she scolded. "He's not worth it. Besides," she continued. "Did you _see_ her? She's a mother's worst nightmare."

I rolled my eyes as she led me into a store. "Stop trying to be so nice Rose. She was hot. I'm not blind, and you're not nice either, so let's not pretend." She stopped walking abruptly, so much so that I found myself crashing into her back. She turned around quickly, grabbing me by the arms and looking me in the eye.

"Bella, don't you think for one moment that she's better than you," she whispered. "You are an intelligent, beautiful woman, and that trash has nothing on you."

The look in her eyes was so sincere, that I almost believed her. Then I realized she had to say those things, because she's my best friend. Still, while it may not be true, it was nice of her to lie. I smiled back at her warmly.

"Thanks Rose."

"Hello ladies. Can I help you with anything today?" The speaker was a sprightly looking girl, with a short mop of black hair standing on all ends. I was about to reply with my usual 'no thanks we're just looking' when Rose budded in and answered for me.

"Yes, actually," she pulled me into her waist. "Bella here is in need of a new wardrobe," She narrowed her eyes and leaned into the girl. "Desperate need," she whispered.

"I have to admit, there's nothing better than being spoken about like you're not here," I said sarcastically, and the sprite laughed.

"Well I'm Alice," she said, already picking out tops. "And I'll gladly help you ladies with anything you need today." I looked at the pile of clothes currently growing on her arm.

"Um, don't you need to know my size?" I asked. She laughed like it was a silly question. "I guess not then." I looked at Rosalie and she shrugged.

Moments later, and without lifting a damn finger, I found myself in the dressing room with a stack full of clothes.

"I want to see all of it," Rose shouted. What was it with girlfriends? Could they never trust your own judgment? "I don't trust your judgment," she answered.

Well, if anything, at least she was honest. I tried on clothes with lightning speed, leaving the decision up to Rose and Alice, who was quickly becoming the most helpful pest in the world. I already had numerous outfits put to the side, when I decided that was probably enough.

"No way," Rose replied to my pleading look. "Not before you get a couple of dresses, skirts, just something remotely feminine."

"Why the hell would I need a dress?"

"Well you'll need one for Friday night," she mumbled. My eyes widened in response, already dreading what was to come.

"Rose," I said carefully, dangerously, "what's happening Friday night?"

"Oh nothing," she refused to look at me.

"If this is another blind date, don't fucking bother. You know how the last one turned out." She whirled on me then, glaring daggers.

"How the hell was I supposed to know Jim was a closet Dom? It's not like he broadcasted the fact that he liked to give spankings to women in chains." She threw her hands in the air in frustration, truly believing it wasn't her fault.

"Actually it wasn't the Dom part that had me running," she gave me a look. "I'm not averted to a little submission now and then. The real problem… well, that you should have guessed."

"What, pray tell, was the problem then?" She asked too sweetly.

"He was a science major," I said, like it was obvious. She scoffed. "A science major who hated English. First of all, don't hate English, or I hate you. Second of all, don't like science, because then you're a fucking idiot."

She rolled her eyes heavenward, clearly asking for assistance. Alice was trying not to laugh beside her.

"This is different Bella. Its Emmett's brother. We can double. Besides, I want you to meet Emmett," she pleaded.

"I already know him Rose; you've only mentioned him a thousand fucking times this past week."

"Oh just shut up and do it Bella. It'll be fun," piped Alice.

"You're fired," I glared. She laughed lightly before skipping out of the dressing room.

"Seriously Rose, I'd really rather not do this. Besides, I have to work on Friday."

"You're volume on Friday, which means you'll get out around 8ish, just enough time to run home and get ready before we meet at J's at 9:30."

I said nothing. I knew she was going to force me into it, one way or another.

"If it's any consolation, Em's brother will be nervous as well. Apparently you guys both share some post-traumatic stress over past blind dates. It'll be a great starting place to bond."

I didn't have the chance to reply, Alice walked back into the dressing room, two dresses in tow.

"Great. What now?" I bit out. The last thing I wanted to do was try on a dress.

"Oh just try it," Alice warned, as if her tiny self was in any way threatening.

Moments later, I walked out in a blue wrap dress, and they both sighed dreamily.

"Perfect," rose whispered.

"Great, can we go now?" I bit out, not even bothering to look at the dress, simply throwing it on top of the 'buy' pile. "If I stay any longer, I'll probably have a mental breakdown, and my therapist won't be pleased," I joked. Rose stopped me before I could leave the room, looking me in the eye.

"You're seeing a therapist?"

I sighed. "Yes, and he's totally fucking hot." She laughed in response. "It's not funny Rose, it's horrible. He's trying to figure out why I'm crazy, and I'm trying to figure out what he looks like naked." At this point she was bending over, trying to catch a breath.

"Get a hold of yourself," I muttered. When she did, she looked at me seriously.

"Bella, I think it's great. Not the hot therapist part, that's funny, but the fact that you're going. That's a really big step for you," She said sincerely.

Well shit, I hated when she got all nice out of nowhere. It always caught me off guard.

"Thanks," I mumbled, making my way to the counter where Alice was already ringing up my clothes.

"So who is he? Maybe I've heard of him."

"Who? My therapist?" She nodded. "Oh. It's Cullen. Edward Cullen." I watched as her face drained of all color, only to be replaced quickly by a devilish smirk.

"What?" I asked, wondering if she knew him. "What's wrong?" She turned her smirk my way.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Nothing at all."

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